Along a path came a man carrying a heavy back pack that made his legs bend under the weight. His one arm was carrying a sack of apples that he gathered up from an apple tree. In the other arm was a lute that he never put down. The midday sun had gotten to him, so he sat down in the shade of a maple tree and wiped the sweat off his brow. Just then a rabbi came up to him and asked why he still hung onto that instrument that he carried with him all the time, if it made him so uncomfortable.
The man looked up and asked him “Why should I put it down? It is my religion. You have yours, and I have mine. When I play it, I am praising God in the same way that you do. Your religion goes back to around 2000 B.C. while mine dates back to when man was first enchanted by the sounds that he heard. The combination of tones and rhythm was placed in such a way that they made him want to listen and communicate with them, especially the sounds that the birds made. I was able to duplicate that sound on my lute. When I play it, I am thanking God for giving me the opportunity to express myself through music, just as the birds do. They communicate with each other, because it is the only way they can. That is their natural way to express themselves, their own music, and their own sacred way of doing it. I do it because I have my lute and a voice. I use it for my worship.
Since your religion is called Judaism, mine is called Musicism. Since yours is explained in the pages of the Torah and waiting to bring you to God after many years of study, mine is in my heart and soul, waiting to be released through the music. Both of our religions, though, are under the auspices our one God, the universal spirit that we both need.